


A Childhood Storm

by GreyPetticoats



Category: Original Work
Genre: Critique requested, Gen, Original work - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 01:03:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1963053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyPetticoats/pseuds/GreyPetticoats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young man walks through the woods to meet with his childhood friends at their old secret hideout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Childhood Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This is a random free-write that I did a million years ago that I really liked, but I could never really figure out a plot for which makes me sad because I think this might have been the best writing I had ever done. I am looking for constructive criticism and critique please.

The sound of leaves crunched under his feet as he slipped through the trees of the foggy woods. It was chilly, but not quite cold enough to be uncomfortable. The autumn months were upon the land, evident in the ever-changing leaves of the trees. Although still green, the yellows and browns of the dying leaves still peaked through, bringing the feel of fall into the surroundings.

Stopping at the top of a hill, he looked down for a moment, in the direction of his destination. It was foggy, but he could still make out faint outlines of trees at the bottom of the hill. A small shiver ran up his spine as his eyes scanned through the trees. The woods always gave him chills during the evening, but tonight seemed especially creepy. It gave him a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, almost like he was someplace that he wasn’t supposed to be.

If one had to compare it, the best way to describe it would be as if you were standing in a normally busy shop after it closed. A place that seemed normally so full of life, closing for the cold months to come. There was no reason to be in such a place, and yet there he was, but this man had a reason.

Brushing the feeling aside, he continued on down the hill towards flatter ground. It was getting darker, and he hoped to put off using the lantern as long as possible, having forgot to put in new batteries. He looked at his watch, trying to figure out how much time left until he reached his destination- a pile of boulders that disguised the old hide out from his childhood.

'There should be time.' he thought to himself, carefully stepping over a fallen tree branch. The old hideout was only an hour away by foot and he had left a half-hour ago. He wasn't quite sure when the sun was supposed to set, but it had to be longer than that, right? At least, he hoped so.

The fog wasn’t helping the cause though. Even though it was still daytime, the dark clouds that had gathered throughout the day had blocked out the sun. Shit, maybe he would need his lantern sooner than he thought. Although he had tried to deny it, the fog was getting thicker, and the sky was getting darker.

'Ten minutes.' he told himself. 'Ten minutes and I'll break it out.' He could still see, mostly, and it wasn't like there was anything too dangerous in these woods. Claire once swore up and down that she saw a wolf once on her way to the hideout, but him and his friends had brushed her off. Claire always had a way of making up stories and exaggerating the truth. What she had seen was probably nothing more than a stray dog, or even a raccoon.

Lost in thought, he almost missed the broken down old barn through the fog. That was close, if he hadn’t seen it, he might have continued to walk in the wrong direction. He squinted his eyes and carefully make his way over to the barn, attempting to be cautious of broken nails or glass. Even wearing thick leather boots, he had always been one to be careful. Someone in the little club had to be at least. Even though he should have been continuing on his way, he lingered at the old dusty barn for a moment, thinking back to the time when this old rundown building had almost become the hideout. He had been the one to find it, and even though everyone thought it was a great idea, Jeremy had other plans. He said it was too big, too open, and too occupied. No one really understood what he meant by that, but no one was going to question him either. When deciding the hide out, it was an all or nothing decision.

It was weird, thinking that back then they all seemed to share a hive mind. It was together or not at all, all or nothing. You all balanced each other out in a way that only kids could understand.

The young man kept walking, taking a sharp right from the barn and going straight. As a kid he would always try and run through this last stretch of land to the boulder hide out. Every day for almost an entire summer he would sprint through the woods with ease to the hide out and be there in fifteen minutes, flat.

There was no way he could do that anymore though. It had been years since he had ran like that. Even in high school he never found the joy of running as he had when he was only thirteen. Sure, he’d tried to join track team in high school, everyone was convinced that he’d get a scholarship for it, but he quit. Running in circles for other people just wasn’t fun. He wanted to run for him, and only him.

So he stopped. All or nothing, right? And he had chosen nothing.

It was dark now, almost too dark to see anything. He pulled off his backpack and fished out the red lantern that he had brought with him. He turned it on, but the dull glow barely helped him see at all. Oh well, if he could just last these next 20 minutes without needing to see more than five feet ahead of him, it should be fine. And really, he only needed to see what was in front of him so that he wouldn’t trip on branches or step in snake holes.

A soft breeze blew through the woods, warning him of a storm that was sure to happen soon. He doubted that he would be able to make it to the hide out and back home in such weather, not that it mattered. Going back home tonight was never part of the plan, as much as he wished it would be.

As much as he loved his friends, he didn’t see much point in this meeting. The club hadn’t all gathered at the old hideout since he was fourteen, yet here at the age of twenty-two, almost ten years later (really? ten years?) he was going back.

Jeremy had called him last month out of nowhere, inviting him to an old reunion party for the club. At first he had almost declined, reminding himself that he hadn’t seen a lot of them in almost four years, and at least two he hadn’t seen for almost eight. Why bother with people who might as well be complete strangers by this point?

But he had agreed to at least show up. Jeremy was ecstatic, saying to bring the usual supplies to the hideout on the 9th of next month, hanging up before he could protest otherwise. It was one thing to have a little middle school reunion, but quite another to go hiking through the woods to some childish hide out.

For the next two weeks he had debated in frustration whether or not he should actually show up to it. One one hand, the hideout was only a little over an hour away, on the other hand most of that time was walking through the woods alone.

In the end, he had agreed. He wanted to say no, God knows he wanted to. Yet there was always something about Jeremy, something about the hide out, something about being with those people, that always drew him back in, like a magnet. They pulled him in, no matter how much he tried to resist, and sometimes… he wondered why he even bothered resisting in the first place.

So he dug through his closet and pulled out an old dusty green backpack and started hunting for the “usual supplies”. Everyone in the club had been required to bring certain supplies for the hideout. It had been decided that since he had been the “responsible” one, he had to bring the important survival gear, which as a kid just meant a first-aid kit, flashlights, a lantern, matches, and anything else that could possibly come in handy. Tonight, he had also packed a sleeping bag, a blanket, a bottle of cheap champagne, water bottles, and a radio.

Flashlights. Right, shit, he DID have those. They would probably have been a lot more helpful than the dull lantern, wouldn’t they? He supposed that all this thinking and making sure that he was going the right way distracted him.

It was almost laughable, remembering the times were he would happily make the trip every day, without a care in the world. Hell, sometimes he would make the trip there and back as many as three times a day. Walking around now, he could remember so much more than he had originally thought. He had been worried that he would get lost, since it had been so long, but no. He was being pulled in again as usual.

There. Right there. There was the final hill that would bring him to the boulders. Adjusting his straps a bit, he started to pick up the pace, power walking up the long slanted hill. It wasn’t a deep slant, and honestly it probably wasn’t higher than fifty feet up, but he was in a rush. The wind was blowing faster now, as if urging him to the boulders.

His heart skipped in excitement, against his better judgement. Moments ago he had been dreading this. His power walk picked up into a slight jog and before he realized what he was doing, he full-on sprinted towards the top of the hill and into a cluster of trees where the boulders would be.

He froze in his tracks when he finally saw the large pile of boulders. It was… bigger than he remembered it, which is weird. When he was a kid, the whole thing seemed smaller from the outside, especially compared to the inside.

Hesitating, he stared at the boulders and then down at his watch. Jeremy had said that he wanted everyone to start meeting up around 7, and it was already fifteen after. Could he be the only one here? Doubt started to creep into his mind. Had Jeremy just played a prank on him? Had he forgotten?

The man almost consider knocking on one of the stones, but what good would that do. It wasn’t like anyone could hear knocking from the other side. He considered calling Jeremy, but a quick glance at his cell phone told him that it would be impossible. ‘Of course there’s no signal.’ he thought to himself, sighing in frustration.

It was then that he noticed the shoe sitting on top of the boulder and he almost gasped. Scrambling a bit, he pulled off his backpack and started searching for the compass he had thrown in there.

Once upon a time, a shoe on top of the hideout had meant something. If you were the first one to the hideout, it was a rule that you must put a shoe on top of the boulder to let the others know that you were there. If it faced west, it meant you were inside and if it faced east it meant that you would be right back.

Of course, when he was younger and this was a regular occurrence then he had memorized which direction was where. But it had been so long since he had needed to know, that he had forgotten.

He fiddled with the compass for a moment, allowing the needle to swing around and finally decide which way was north. He looked at the shoe and back down to the compass again. The shoe was facing west. Someone was in there.

The wind blew again, shaking leaves off the surrounding trees. Oh yes, it was certainly going to rain soon. There was no going back now, was there?

He stepped towards the boulders, and climbed over the one with the shoe, so that he was in the center of the pile. He grabbed the top boulder and gave it a pull. It honestly wasn’t that heavy, or that big, but it had been the perfect door. Feet first, he slid in and crouched a bit to move the rock back. When he was a kid, and much smaller, he had needed to get on his toes to do this, but as an adult it was much easier.

He held up his lantern, and turned around until he caught sight of the doggy door style flap that would lead to the slide, and down to the hideout. With a small grunt, he slipped off the backpack and pushed it first through the flap and listened as it tumbled down through the darkness. Eventually, a small thud echoed back up and he positioned himself to go down. Sticking his feet and legs first through the flap, he braced himself for the ride.

With a small push, he slid down the dirt, wishing that he had thought to bring a sheet of cardboard to slide on. He had forgotten about how steep and fast it was, and also how small and confined the slide was. It was scary sliding down the dark tunnel, not knowing what awaited, but he managed.

Finally reaching the bottom, he was now able to stand up. It really was bigger than he remembered. He had been worried that he wouldn’t be able to fit down there, and yet here he stood. He reached around for the bag and slung it over one shoulder now. It wouldn’t take long to get to the “family room” now.

he also found that he no longer need his lamp to see, as someone had placed lanterns along the stoney corridor. (And THEY had remembered to put in fresh batteries!) Flicking off the lamp he continued down the path. The exit of the tunnel to the family room was only about a hundred meters, meaning that it took almost no time at all.

He reached the stone door with his insides turned to mush, and his stomach doing flips. This was a bad idea, what the hell was he thinking coming down to the middle of the woods right before a storm? Just to see some friends who he barely remembered? To live out the “good ol’ days”? What good old days? He was twenty-two! THESE should have been his good old days! He should have been at a club, or on a date! Not in some cold, damp, underground cavern!

He shouldn’t have be setting his lantern down, and he shouldn’t be pulling the stone aside. He shouldn’t be covering his eyes when he saw a bright light, and he shouldn’t be smiling when he heard a voice say “About damn time, Joey!”.


End file.
